Meeting Marty
by Flaming Trails
Summary: What was Doc's perspective on that fateful night in 1955?


Meeting Marty

A Back To The Future Story

By Flaming Trails

Disclaimer: I don't own Back To The Future. If I did, Clara would be in big trouble.

  


Prologue

Quick note. This story is part of the 1955 series. This means this story fits in with either my "Original BTTF" or "Vampire Doc Chronicles". Take your pick.

  


Saturday, November 5th, 1955

Hill Valley, California

7: 34 P. M.

"God Damn IT!"

Dr. Emmett Brown angrily shut off the machine. For the last hour, all he'd been getting was static. He glared at his dog, attached to the other end. "Are you not sending out thoughts?" he demanded.

Doc's dog, Copernicus, just yawned. Doc sighed and examined the machine itself, checking for equipment failure. He'd invented this piece of junk a week ago. It was _supposed_ to let you read minds. But, no matter how many times he tested it, he heard almost nothing but static. Occasionally a word or phrase would pop into his mind, but never anything concrete.

He sighed again, having found nothing mechanically wrong from the outside. "Maybe it's the machine's fault," he muttered, taking the blame off Copernicus. "It's possible it simply doesn't work. Or maybe it's _my_ fault. How on earth can a _human_ understand a _dog's_ thoughts?" He looked at Copernicus, who was sitting faithfully by the bulk of the machine. "I need a human test subject. Not that I'll ever find one, but I need one." Sadly, he checked his wristwatches. "_It's 7: 30,_" he thought. "_I should probably quit for tonight before I forget to feed myself._"

He didn't know it, but the next moment would change his life forever.

Suddenly, he heard a knock at his door. Puzzled, he went to the door and opened it a crack, not really expecting anyone there. One of the favorite tricks of the neighborhood kids who taunted him was 'ring the bell and run'. Peering out, he saw a brunette teenager wearing a jean jacket and life vest waiting on his front porch, his back turned to him. He was all alone and seemed rather restless.

The mysterious teen began to turn around, probably having heard the door open. Doc quickly shut it. He had no idea who the kid was, but he was glad to see him. Now he had a human test subject for his mind-reading machine! Hearing the kid approach the door, he swung it back open, leaning out to get a better look at the kid.

The teen, who had gray-blue eyes, seemed startled by his sudden appearance. "Doc?" he asked tentatively.

"_Doc?_" Doc thought. "_Who's Doc? I've certainly never been called by that particular nickname._" He decided not to dwell on it. He grabbed the teen by the shoulders and instructed, "Don't say a word!" He pulled him inside the house, quickly checked to see if there was anyone else outside, then shut the door.

"I don't want to know your name, I don't want to know anything about you!" Doc told the boy, returning with him to the mind-reading machine. "Quiet!" He knelt and unstrapped the suction cup from Copernicus's head. The kid was saying something very nervously, but Doc screened it out. He wanted a blank slate to work with in this initial trial. Copernicus shook himself and trotted off.

Doc stood up again and saw the teen was still trying to talk to him. "Don't tell me _anything_!" he said, moistening the suction cup so it would stick better to the skin.

"Doc, you gotta help-" the teen started frantically.

"Quiet!" Doc insisted, sticking the cup to the teen's forehead. The kid finally shut up, crossing his eyes to look at it. "I'm going to read your thoughts," Doc explained. He flipped a few switches on the bulk of the machine, and steadied his helmet as it began to tip. The all too familiar static came through. "Let's see now. . . ."

The words "_time travel_" popped into his brain. "_Time-travel?_" Doc thought, surprised. "_What a coincidence. The kid is probably from a different time zone._" "You come here from a great distance?" he tried.

"Yeah! Exactly!" the teen said, looking pleased.

"Now don't tell me!" Doc told him, waving his arm for emphasis. He heard more when the subject was silent. It was nice to hear he'd gotten it right, though.

The next word he heard was "_newspaper_". Doc had no idea what that meant. "_Does he sell newspapers?_" "You want me to buy a subscription to the Saturday Evening Post?" he guessed, going for a well-known paper.

The teen, who had been staring very intensely at him, looked disappointed. "No!"

"Not a word, not a word, not a word now!" Doc snapped. "Quiet." He steadied the helmet again, which had begun to tip to one side. "_If I can ever get this machine to work properly, I'll need to reduce the size of the receiver helmet._"

The words "_donation_" and "_Coast Guard_" slipped into his brain. Doc pondered that for a moment. "_The kid must be collecting money for the Coast Guard. That's why he's wearing the life preserver_." "Donations! . . .You want me to make a donation-to the Coast Guard Youth Auxiliary!" he cried, briefly grabbing the life vest to make his point.

The teen stepped forward and yanked off the suction cup, leaving a hickey. "Doc-I'm from the future. I came here in a time machine that _you_ invented. Now I need your help to get back to the year 1985," he announced, the intense look back on his face.

Doc didn't know whether to laugh or call the local sanitarium, Southdale. A teen from 30 years in the future? He decided to humor the kid a little. "My God," he said in mock-amazement. He walked up to the teen and took him gently by the shoulders. "Do you know what this means?"

The kid just stared at him. The intense look on his face reminded Doc of how his machine had failed. His mood changed to anger. "It means that _this damn thing doesn't work AT ALL!_" he snapped, yanking at the straps under his chin. He walked over to a nearby table, swearing as he took the helmet off.

The teen followed him. "Doc, you gotta help me," he pleaded. "You're the only one who knows how your time machine works."

Doc looked up, startled. "Time machine?" he repeated in a semi-whisper. Just that morning, while hanging a clock, he had slipped and fell, hitting his head on the sink. When he'd come to, he'd had an incredible idea-the 'flux capacitor'. A machine capable of sending things through time. But he'd done nothing except sketch it out. He turned away, slowly bringing his fingers to the bandage on his head. "I haven't invented any time machine."

He felt the kid look at him, which brought him back to reality. He turned and looked back, challenging him to prove his incredible claim. "Okay, all right, I'll prove it," the teen said, pulling out his wallet. Doc semi-ignored him, using a pair of calipers to examine the helmet. The teen flipped free his driver's license. "Look at my driver's license. Expires 1987. Look at my birth date for crying out loud, I haven't even been born yet!"

Doc gave the license a passing glance. The kid had probably made a fake ID with some help from a print shop or something. He returned to checking the helmet, comparing the diameter of the helmet to that of his head.

The teen now pulled out a picture. "And-look at this picture. My brother, my sister, and me." He showed it to Doc, who took it with his calipers. "Look at her sweatshirt Doc. Class of 1984."

Doc studied the pictured. That was definitely the teen in the middle. And the girl next to him did have on a shirt that said "Class of 1984." But the boy on the opposite side of him was missing his hair. The photo was obviously a fake. "_The kid must be on some sort of dare from his buddies,_" Doc decided. "Pretty mediocre photographic fakery; they cut off your brother's hair," he commented, dropping it on the table.

The teen slammed his hand down over it. "I'm telling the truth, Doc, you gotta believe me!" he insisted.

Doc was getting tired of this game. He got up and rounded the teen. "Then tell me, Futureboy," he said sarcastically, "who's president of the United States in 1985?"

The kid replaced his picture in his wallet. "Ronald Reagan," he said confidently.

Doc knew the kid probably meant "Reagan" pronounced "Reegan". "Ronald Reagan?" he repeated, unconsciously imitating the pronunciation. "The _actor_? Huh!" He gathered up his blueprints. "Then who's vice-president? _Jerry Lewis_?!" he demanded, standing up as straight as he could from annoyance. He didn't bother to wait for an answer, dashing out of the house down to his garage, the teen hot on his trail.

Doc ran down his yard to his garage/lab, his housecoat fanning out behind him. "I suppose Jane Wyman is the First Lady!" he yelled back, momentarily forgetting she was now Ronnie's ex-wife.

"Whoa, wait, Doc!" the teen called, in hot pursuit.

"And Jack Benny is Secretary of the Treasury!" Doc added, reaching the large double doors. He carefully tucked his blueprints under one arm and unlocked them. He couldn't understand why this teen was so determined. "_The joke's over, kid. Leave me alone._"

"Doc, you gotta listen to me!" the teen begged, finally catching up with him.

Doc shook him off and went inside, irked. "I've had enough practical jokes for one evening!" He turned around and almost shut the door, leaving a crack just large enough for him to look out of. "Goodnight, Futureboy!" He slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside with a sliding bar. Shaking his head, he dropped his blueprints on a table and proceeded to study them.

"No, wait, Doc! The bruise- the bruise on your head! I know how that happened; you told me the whole story," the kid insisted desperately from outside the door. "You were standing on your toilet and you were hanging a clock and you_ fell_ and you hit your head on the sink! And that's when you came up with the idea for the_ flux capacitor_, which- is what makes time travel possible." His voice faded as little as he ended. He seemed to have turned from the door.

Doc immediately went back to the door, unlocked it, and threw it open. He came out, eyes wide with disbelief. He stared at the teen a moment, then asked, "How did you know that?"

"You told me, Doc," the teen said.

"I did not! I've never seen you before in my life!" Doc snapped. "And why do you keep calling me 'Doc'?"

"It's my nickname for you," the teen explained. "Back in 1985."

Doc glared at him. "Listen, Marty Mc-Fly-"

He stopped dead. "_How do I suddenly know the kid's name?_" he wondered. He didn't recall hearing it. And the last name didn't make any sense. The only McFlys he knew did have a son, but his name was George. Yet he was sure that "Marty McFly" was the kid's name.

Marty seemed as stunned as Doc. "How'd you-"

Doc shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I just- suddenly knew. It- it _came_ to me."

They looked at each other a moment, trying to understand it. Then Marty shrugged it off. "I guess it's not important. Maybe you saw it when you looked at my driver's license."

Doc's intuition said he hadn't, but it was the only logical explanation. He shrugged it off too. "The point is, Marty, I've never seen you before. I'd remember a teenager who claimed he was from 30 years in the future."

"You haven't seen me _now_, but in 1985, we're best friends!" Marty told him. "In fact, I can prove it." He yanked out his wallet and began looking through his pictures. "Jennifer, Jennifer, Mom, Dad, both, family, Jennifer- here we go!" He pulled out a picture and handed it to Doc. Doc confused, looked at it. He gasped.

The kid on the left was Marty, no doubt about that. But the man on the right- with his arm around Marty's shoulders- it couldn't be! But it was. 

It was him.

Doc flipped the photo over. On the back, in a feminine hand, someone had written, "Doc and Marty, June 9th, 1983."

Marty pointed to the date. "My 15th birthday, Doc," he said. "See that thing in the background? You built that for me as a birthday present so I could play my music. I'd met you 8 months before. _That's_ how close we are. I've got a couple other pictures of us together too."

Doc shook his head in total disbelief. "This is impossible. Simply impossible. Time travel doesn't exist yet. I haven't built my machine yet. I just thought of it this morning." He looked at Marty, then back at the photo. "I don't know what to believe."

"Listen, drive me to the time machine," Marty said, taking the picture of them and sticking it back in his wallet. "It's down by the farms, behind the Lyons Estates billboard. I hid it behind there because I couldn't do anything else with it."

Doc looked at Marty carefully, his eyes getting that 'see into your soul' look. He seemed sincere. And that incredible photo he'd shown him. . . . "Okay. Get in the car."

Marty hopped into Doc's convertible, parked outside the garage. Doc went back inside briefly and grabbed a pair of flashlights. He shut the doors, locked them, and joined Marty in the car. He handed the teen a flashlight and drove off.

They drove silently for most of the trip as Doc attempted to digest all the information he'd received in the past half-hour. Then, as they turned down the road that lead to the building site for Lyons Estates, he asked a question. "Marty, you said we were best friends. I shouldn't ask this, but why am I best friends with a 17 year old?"

"Mostly because no one else will talk to you," Marty admitted.

"So life doesn't change for me much in the future," Doc grumbled.

Marty smiled at him. "Cheer up, Doc. I _like_ being friends with you. You're a cool guy to be around." 

Doc felt himself start to blush. "You really think so?"

"Yeah. Why else would you show me a new invention of yours every other week?"

"New inventions? But I'd be- Good Lord, 64 by 1985!" Doc exclaimed. "I thought I'd be retired."

"You don't build them for money, just for fun." Marty spotted the billboard. "Over here, Doc."

Doc passed the billboard and pulled in next to it. He and Marty switched their flashlights on and got out of the car. "There's something wrong with the starter," Marty said, louder than in the car, "so I hid it- here."

He walked forward, Doc following him at a safe distance. Their flashlight beams illuminated a strange silver car with big vents in the back. Doc thought it looked something like a spaceship. He examined it as Marty threw off the branches he had used for woefully inadequate cover and disguise.

As Marty turned back to him, Doc pulled his drawing out of his pocket, deciding on the spur of the moment to show it to the teen. "When I- fell off my toilet- I drew this." He held up the drawing so Marty could see it easily.

Marty used his flashlight to light it up. "Flux capacitor," he whispered. Then he moved back to the car. Doc stepped back a little as Marty opened the door. He looked inside as Marty knelt by the back of the cramped car. He shone his flashlight on a Y-shaped device. Even though the top of the Y faced up inside of down, Doc knew it was the flux capacitor.

Marty switched it on. The device immediately began to crackle, energy moving through it at a steady rate. He looked at Doc with a smile, then moved back so his friend could get a clearer look.

Doc moved forward, his eyes wide and riveted to the flux capacitor. "_It works. It works perfectly. It works on the first try. It works._" A look of pure ecstasy appeared on his face. He fell to his knees, filled with joy. "It works!" He began to laugh with pure happiness. "_IT WORKS_!" he cried to the heavens, throwing his arms up in delight. He turned around and grabbed Marty, pulling him down too. "I finally invent something that works!"

"You bet your ass it works," Marty muttered, turning a little from Doc.

Doc gazed joyfully at the car. Then it hit him- if the car was here, Marty's story was true! "Somehow, we've got to sneak this back to my laboratory," he said. Then, pulling Marty close again, he added intensely, "We've got to get you home!"

The End


End file.
